Sunday, January 31, 2016

Cover Reveal: Anti-Romance by Cassia Leo

We're excited to share the cover and first chapter of Cassia Leo's upcoming release, Anti-Romance, with you today! Anti-Romance is NOT a romance. This is a hilariously screwed-up stand-alone novel love story. This is a book you'll definitely want to grab in paperback; the cover will be completely colorable! 

   

 About Anti-Romance: Laney Hill is screwed. On the bed. On the treadmill. On the hood of a BMW. And on her boss’s desk. Then she’s screwed again when she steps into the free clinic and finds out she has gonorrhea. That dirty prick gave her gonorrhea! She’s totally going to break up with him...until he breaks up with her...because he’s married! A night out drinking with friends leads to a fateful--yet awkwardly-sloppy--kiss between her and her best friend George Bratton. George has been single and pining for his ex-girlfriend ever since their breakup two years ago. When his ex invites him to her destination wedding in London, self-destructive George and gonorrhea survivor Laney make a deal to go as each other’s dates. It will make great material for Laney’s “Anti-Romance” blog and maybe it will help George finally get over his ex. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? This is a stand-alone novel.  

 

   
 ANTI-ROMANCE CHAPTER 1 – EXCERPT Copyright © 2016 by Cassia Leo. The tip of his erection was pressed firmly against my opening, a rock hard promise of the pleasure to come. This was the way he loved to tease me, right after making me come with his masterful tongue. He knew I needed him inside me. Needed to feel his girth stretching me. Needed to feel the closeness of his sweat-dampened skin pressed against mine. But he wasn’t going to give in so easily. First he would draw out the anticipation, until I was begging for him to fuck me. He would kiss and caress my body until I was forced to beg for it, until I reached the point of no return, where even the slightest touch would set off a chain reaction inside my body; a domino effect of nerve endings firing through every inch of my body, cascading uncontrollably toward my center, concluding in a mind-numbing, thigh-quaking, chest-rattling climax. Then, and only then, did he plunge into me with the force of an armada crashing upon the shores, ready to plunder the land for all its riches. I, the willingly-pillaged maiden, could only cry out in unbridled ecstasy as he took everything I had. Every moan. Every scream. Every drop of passion coursing through me. When he finished inside me, his dying erection still twitching in its final death throes, he draped his body over mine as I lay back across the hood of his BMW. Mouth slightly hung open, his breathing heavy on my damp skin as his lips pressed against my neck. Each breath he exhaled sent a gentle shiver coursing through me; goosebumps sprouted over my skin as he lightly stroked my outer thigh with the backs of his fingers. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured in my ear. Though Rick had said these words a thousand times since we began dating two months ago, I still reminded myself not to believe them. I wasn’t gorgeous—not by his standards or anyone else’s. Maybe I could be described as “cute…if she lost a few pounds, got lip injections, and used a curling iron on those limp locks every once in a while.” No one—other than Rick—had ever called me, Laney Hill, gorgeous. But what I lacked in the looks department, I more than made up for with a firm grip and a “fiery spirit,” as my former women’s studies professor used to call it; or, as my best friend liked to call it these days, my “unbridled cynicism.” My best friend, George Bratton, was a serial monogamist and—God help him—a hopeless romantic. His shortest romantic relationship lasted more than a year. My longest relationship lasted ten months, and that ended a few years ago when I decided to change careers. Since then, I’d plowed through more men than Al Capone’s Tommy gun. Of course, most of my romantic misadventures had been undertaken in the name of research for my blog, lovingly named Anti-Romance: The seedy parlor where romance goes to get a happy-ending before it dies. At least, this is what I had convinced myself of. I only entered dead-end relationships for my job. It certainly wasn’t because I was screwed up in any way. Nope. Not me. I was just an artist willing to live my art. I entertained the world—well, my 257,000 subscribers—with my cocked-up love life. I was the canvas and my choice of medium was unavailable men. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow after the rally?” I asked the question in a breathy murmur, trying to make my minuscule request sound even less demanding. He blew out a deep breath as he stood straighter. “I can’t. I’ll be flying to D.C. to play preschool teacher to some women’s rights groups. I have to coordinate the announcement of their endorsements on social media. I’ll call you to set something up when I get back.” I forced a smile as his green eyes locked on mine. “Of course. If you need any help,” I replied, tracing the tip of my tongue along his sharp jawline, savoring the salt of his efforts, “I’m great at kissing up to disillusioned constituents.” He chuckled heartily as he pulled away and reached for his waistline to button his slacks. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I think the candidate would rather I tackle this alone.” The candidate. Three months into our smoldering farce of a courtship and Rick still felt the need to call Senator John Grossman—the Republican presidential candidate he worked for—“the candidate.” As if I were too stupid to know he was referring to Senator Grossman. I may not have graduated from Harvard, but I was not stupid. In fact, I graduated in the top two percent of my class with a degree in psychology and a minor in women’s studies. Our country, on the other hand, was circling the Idiocracy drain. As evidenced by the untethered enthusiasm for reality TV—and, in my case, reality blogs—it was only a matter of time before we Americans would go sliding down a sludge-filled drainpipe and end up sloshing around the intellectual sewer system. The way I saw it, if our ship was going down, I wanted to go down in a yacht, not a life raft. I adjusted the crotch of my panties, all the while ignoring the burning itch that always followed rough sex with Rick. Though, it did seem to be getting worse lately. Must be a slight feminine “imbalance.” Nothing a little over-the-counter ointment wouldn’t fix. I smoothed down the skirt of my dress as Rick pulled up the zipper on his trousers. He wore that sly grin that communicated one of the following: a) He could go for another round, or b) He was quite pleased that he had conquered me in yet another public forum. The first time we had sex in public was on my third day working undercover in Grossman’s Austin headquarters. I thought seducing a Republican would make a great story for my blog followers. Rick thought having sex on his desk would be a great stress reliever. I knew we would make a great team. Actually, Rick was the first guy I’d considered letting in on my secret. Since I started my Anti-Romance blog four years ago, I’d told zero men that our relationship would be used for entertainment. Online, I went by the pseudonym Amber F. Thus far, none of my male companions had linked me to Amber. But Rick and I had been working together and fucking each other for almost three months. Somehow, this felt different. And, technically, I hadn’t written about Rick on the blog yet. I usually journaled about my relationships in a private app on my computer until we broke up. Then I’d go back and embellish my journal entries wherever necessary and upload each entry to the blog. My followers didn’t know if my dating life was happening in real time or past tense. Part of me did this because I was fastidious about never publishing a first draft, even if it was a first draft of a real life event. Another part of me hoped that when I found the right guy, my followers would never know anything about him, because our relationship would never end so I’d never have the opportunity to blog about it. Stranger things had happened. The look in Rick’s green eyes was breaking me down brick by brick. I felt myself blushing from the top of my head to my nether regions. I had to tell him about the blog. He reached up and cupped my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “I can’t wait until the primaries are over and I can take you away with me for a few days.” He brushed his lips over mine and the pulsing ache between my legs returned, which only accentuated the burning itch. “Where do you want me to fuck you next? Under a waterfall in Hawaii? In front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris?” “Benghazi!” I blurted out and his face hardened as he pulled away. I delivered a playful shove to his solid chest. “I’m kidding. Paris sounds magnifique.” The sound of a car door opening startled us both. I whipped my head around to find my young and surly-in-a-hot-way neighbor stepping out of his pickup truck, which was parked right next to Rick’s BMW. He was sitting in his truck this whole time? My face flushed with heat as my neighbor attempted to keep his head down while passing us, but he couldn’t hide his smirk. Oh. My. God. The poor guy was trapped in his car this whole time because he was too afraid to disturb our public fuck-session. “I’m sorry,” I murmured as he passed. His head twitched in my direction, but he didn’t dare make eye contact. “No worries, ma’am,” he muttered as he continued toward our apartment complex. It was about 60 degrees in January, but I could swear it was summer in Austin as a searing warmth crept up my cheeks. About Cassia:  
 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time watching old reruns of Friends and Sex and the City. When she’s not watching reruns, she’s usually walking in the rain or reading. Come chat with her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorcassialeo Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AuthorCassiaLeo You can also follow her blog at http://cassialeo.com.

Monday, January 11, 2016

New Release: Finding Serenity by TE Black - The Unexpected Love Series book 2

Finding Serenity Series: The Unexpected Love Series Book 2
Author: T.E. Black
Genre: NA/Contemporary Romance
Release: January 11, 2016
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26525072-finding-serenity

Blurb:
When it was good, it was great. When it was bad, it was worse. My life turned into a whirlwind of destruction before I even got the chance to love her. She could have been my angel, my saving grace; I never gave her the chance. I gave myself a taste of her angelic kiss, convincing her to love with everything she had. Then I destroyed her. I destroyed both of us and I felt nothing as I did it. I didn't feel anything in my sorry state. We both had secrets and both of them would have destroyed us in one way or another. Hers could have possibly been bigger than mine, but I doubted it from the start. I knew I had the quality of devastation within me the entire time. After all, I'm the king of lies. I'm the king of addiction. I'm the king of turmoil. I'm the king of motherfucking heartbreak.

Buy Now:
Free with Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon: http://goo.gl/p3pmYZ
Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/Dwhwvv
Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/aYcErX
Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/GrVsQV
Book Trailer
 
Playlist:
 
Others Are Saying about Finding Serenity:
 “TE Black broke my heart and mended the pieces repeatedly throughout this book. I absolutely LOVED it!!” ~Book Lovers Obsession - Kristin 5 star review “I knew I would love Trent before I started reading.... I never expected to fall this head over heels for him! Hot, bearded, tattooed and sexy as F***!” ~Roby 5 star review

(Goodreads) Giveaway:
Author Bio: 
T.E. Black, also known as Tiffany, lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two dogs. She enjoys reading, coffee, writing, graphic design, camping, and has a weakness for designer purses and shoes. Tiffany was inspired to write while she was reading her favorite romance novels. Her first novel, Finding a Way (Unexpected Love Series #1), was written within three months. Currently, she is writing her second novel, Finding Serenity (Unexpected Love Series #2), set to be released in late 2015 / early 2016. Tiffany loves to hear from her fans through social media and encourages anyone who wants to gush about her favorite characters, Mac and Callie, to do so. 

Social Media Links: 
Website: www.authorteblack.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorteblack 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorteblack 
Instagram: https://instagram.com/author_te_black/ 
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/TEBlack Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/22gigmucdk6qybbap2khnvefy 
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/T.E.-Black/e/B015YRNP46 

In the Series: Finding A Way (An Unexpected Love Story #1) 
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25520893-finding-a-way 

Buy Links (Kindle Unlimited) 
Amazon: http://tiny.cc/7rfx3x Amazon CA: http://tiny.cc/ksfx3x 
Amazon UK: http://tiny.cc/6sfx3x Amazon AU: http://tiny.cc/8sfx3x

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Now LIVE: All The Pretty Lights by Tara Oakes

All the Pretty Lights is now Live!



** Warning ** This book is intended for those over 18 years of age due to mature and sexual content. 


Have you ever wondered what it's like on the other side of the lights? On the other side of the camera? Better be careful what you wish for. Daphne Baker is a struggling designer living in a third floor walkup that she can barely afford in Tribeca. When she has the opportunity of a lifetime to travel to L.A. and meet with a world-renowned designer interested in her work, the weekend leads to her surprisingly meeting one of the most famous men in the world. He's sexy, he's talented, he's rich, he's got it all, right? Colton Webb is only thirty and yet he's on the verge of becoming "washed out," having seen it all and done it all with the most famous of the in crowd. He's the quintessential Hollywood bad boy. Nothing surprises him anymore, nothing seems real. That is, until he meets Daphne. Could she be just what he needs to help find himself again, to find something he never thought existed outside the blockbuster films he makes? To find something... real? They come from two different worlds, from two very different places. Can she find her way through the chaos to see him for more than the carefully constructed publicity machine he's been made into? Can she hold her own in The "A" List crowd he leads? Is he worth it? Like the ending of every one of his mega successful movies, will Colton and Daphne find their real life happily ever after, or will it be a tragic love story gone wrong? Love's safe when watching it play out on screen. It's something very different when you're living it. Daphne's about to find out exactly what it means to be a part of The "A" List. Can she find a way to stay true to herself along the way, or will she end up like the rest of them? 

 Preorder your copy today and be one of the first to find out, in this full length stand-alone novel with NO CLIFFHANGER. All preorders will include a bonus chapter of book 2 in The "A" List series, THE HARDER THEY FALL.


More About Tara Oakes
Tara is a thirty something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Lil_Oakes

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Tara-Oakes/e/B00N71SH18/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Oakes/1468537190061965?ref=hl

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